


Piece Of My Heart

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Memory Alteration, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Fiddleford wipes Ford's mind for his own good. A dark Fiddauthor.





	Piece Of My Heart

The blast of the memory gun is so strong that it knocks Ford off his feet. It makes Fiddleford cringe to see Ford hit his head on the floor, but he has to let it happen; he needs to pocket the memory gun carefully away first before he can approach Ford, reach out to cradle his face between his hands.

“Ford, are you all right?”

Thankfully, Ford’s level of consciousness hasn’t been really affected; he looks a little stunned when Fiddleford helps him to sit up, but his eyes are clear and focused by the time he turns to Fiddleford.

“Fiddleford?” Fiddleford knows what’s coming - “what are you doing here?” - but instead he’s surprised when Ford says: "Oh my gosh, you look awful!”

Fiddleford stares at him, mouth open, for a while before bursting into laughter; that was the last thing he expected to hear from Ford, but by God, it’s the most Ford-like thing in the world. Once he’s laughing, he can’t stop himself, which soon has Ford frowning, his big hands seeking out Fiddleford’s narrow shoulders. “Fiddleford, snap out of it!”

“I-i-in a minute!” Fiddleford snorts, trying to calm himself down. None of this is going to work if he’s hysterical, but they have sailed past the worst part: the memory wipe has been successful. “I’m sorry, let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Yes, let’s.” Ford starts to help him up, and it’s only after he has aided Fiddleford back to his feet when he seems to realize that there is a sore spot in the back of his head, groaning as he reaches behind to rest his hand on top of it. Fiddleford waits for the same realization to happen about Ford’s memory, watching as Ford’s eyes go wide.

“Fiddleford, what are you doing in Gravity Falls?” Ford stares at him, shock slowly settling in. “What happened?”

Fiddleford isn’t laughing, can’t laugh anymore, but inside, he feels giddier than ever. Ford doesn’t remember why Fiddleford is in this town, nor the last months of their lives; those are side effects of having the memory of the portal removed from his mind.

*

The trick behind a good lie is to keep it close to the truth.

“We’ve been investigating Gravity Falls together. You needed my mechanical knowledge to build a machine that can be used to examine the magical forces in this area, but something went horribly wrong. The machine became charged with unknown energy and you were exposed to it. I have been able to neutralize the machine but it needs to be taken down.”

The problem with this lie is that the truth is complex, and the best lie Fiddleford could come up with ended up being unnecessarily complex as well; he fully expects Ford to start poking holes into it, charge on it like a hound. Ford surprises him again by nodding.

"For some reason, this town is the home to all things weird, Fiddleford,” Ford says. “I guess I thought it was a good idea to try to harness some of that weirdness. I should have known it was a bad idea.” Ford sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "So, there’s a machine? You’re right, we should disassemble it as soon as possible.”

Ford starts to get up, but Fiddleford reaches out and grabs him from the wrist.

Truth to be told, Fiddleford feels a little stunned. This is exactly what he’s been after. This is the best case scenario that he never expected to happen: Ford forgot the portal, he’s not questioning Fiddleford’s story, he is ready to take the portal down. God, for once, has been listening to Fiddleford’s prayers and he must not look down upon what’s been given to him. He needs to let this happen before things start backfiring on him.

"Aren’t you curious about what you have lost? Things you’ve forgotten?”

He shouldn’t be asking those things, risking that Ford starts to focus on different things. But he looks at Ford, expecting an answer, and whatever there is in his eyes makes Ford sit back down.

“Of course I am, but if there is something dangerous in the laboratory, we need to take care of it first.” Ford looks hesitant, eyes darting between the table and Fiddleford’s jaw. “There is a machine there, isn’t there?”

“Well, yes, but-” Fiddleford ducks a little lower so their eyes meet again. “Don’t you feel like you’ve forgotten something important?”

“Like what?” Ford is frowning now, crossing his arms over his chest. "Naturally, I have forgotten many things, but this is not the time to think about those.”

“What if it is?”

“What do you mean?”

Now, it’s Fiddleford who starts to stand up. “Let’s go outside.”

*

Had things gone just a little differently, this would have been the first memory Fiddleford had ever removed.

Since it isn’t, he remembers exactly where they discovered the Gremloblin for the first time, and knows where to take Ford in the woods. It’s not an easy trip, with Ford constantly stopping to look around and wanting to explore something up close, but Fiddleford is insistent, keeping them both going.

“Where are we?” Ford asks when they reach the site, curious but uncomprehending.

Fiddleford can’t stand that.

“Don’t you remember, what happened here? What we found?”

It’s seared into Fiddleford’s memory, the way everything unfolded here. His attempts to warn Ford. When the creature grabbed him. When he was dragged around. Ford’s earnest but sad attempts to save him. How he had felt like he had been driven over by a truck several times by the time it was over, how his mind seemed to have become loose inside his head.

How he had cringed away from Ford’s attempts to comfort him, whimpering when Ford had taken him into his arms.

How he had clutched Ford with all four limbs and his teeth when Ford had started to kiss him, when Fiddleford had kissed back.

“Sorry, there’s nothing,” Ford says. He has knelt down at the ground, running his fingers along the soft soil. “We should have brought a camera with us, there are some interesting tracks here!”

Fiddleford sees that Ford is about to lift his head in order to look at him, and he has to turn away so Ford won’t see his grimace.

*

They return to Ford’s house soon after.

“You know, it was a really good idea that you came here,” Ford says, smiling so easily that Fiddleford doesn’t have the heart to not smile back.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Then, before he can stop it: “I haven’t always been sure.”

Ford’s smile dims a little, but it doesn’t take long for it to brighten again, and his hand is warm and firm when it comes down on Fiddleford’s back.

“Well, now you can be. I hope you’re staying here, even if this project didn’t work out.” He steps to the front door, ready to open it. “Speaking of it, let’s take care of that machine now!”

“Let’s,” Fiddleford agrees, following him in.

The next time he aims his gun at Ford, he’s a little more hesitant than on the  first time, a little more reluctant to pull the trigger. But once it’s done, he feels equally sure that it was the right thing to do: it’s better for Fiddleford if Ford forgets about him altogether.


End file.
